Down The Line

Open my eyes to see, tick-tock glaring back at me,
Get out of bed; I’m already half dressed.
I do the job; I do the work, though it’s driving me berserk,
So where’s my prize now that I’ve passed the test.

What do you want from me, ‘Cause it’s so hard to see,
When the things you’ve said have clouded up my mind
And what am I supposed to say, when you look at me that way,
I hope that we can fix it down the line. Down the line.

Another wasted afternoon, another taste of Wetherspoons,
Sipping, tipping, putting down the ale.
And I am just hours away, from another cold take-away,
This is getting boring; going stale.

What do you want from me, ‘Cause it’s so hard to see,
When the things you’ve said have clouded up my mind
And what am I supposed to say, when you look at me that way,
I hope that we can fix it down the line. Down the line.


What do you want from me, ‘Cause it’s so hard to see,
When the things you’ve said have clouded up my mind
And what am I supposed to say, when you look at me that way,
I hope that we can fix it down the line. Down the line.
Down the line etc….

_

© R.Myers